


fight on, 'til the night is won

by volunteer_of_hufflepuff



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Background Malec, F/F, Happy Ending, Married Maiabelle, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Murder Mystery AU, mundane AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24680425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volunteer_of_hufflepuff/pseuds/volunteer_of_hufflepuff
Summary: Maia and Izzy are far from satisfied by the police's effort to solve the murder of their friend, Bat, so they take matters into their own hands.Nothing is more romantic than searching with your wife for a murderer as your brother tags along. Especially if the murderer is caught, Alec is brought home to his husband in time, and Izzy gets to kiss Maia underneath the star-speckled sky.At least, that's what Izzy hopes for. Murderer caught, brother happy, kiss wife.But not everything goes that smoothly.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Isabelle Lightwood, Isabelle Lightwood/Maia Roberts
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	fight on, 'til the night is won

**Author's Note:**

> hello! I hope you enjoy this maiabelle murder mystery fic. 
> 
> Aros_Sage prompted murder mystery maiabelle, and this is the result.
> 
> beta'd by the wonderful AlterEgon.
> 
> enjoy!

On a perfectly ordinary night, they’re sneaking around on top of frozen ground, walking slowly as to not skid on the icy grass.

It’s a great bonding activity for Maia and Izzy, even though Izzy’s brother is accompanying them, as the street glints silver from the nearly full moon. 

It would almost be romantic, charming, if they weren’t looking for a murderer.

Alec huffs, breath clouding up in front of him in swirls of fine white mist. “You two really need to stop doing this.”

Maia, who has, of all things, a spray water bottle strapped to the brown leather buckle hiking up her jeans, scoffs. “You don’t have to follow us, you know.”

Alec rolls his eyes, tugs at his gloves. “I don’t,” he says, “but for goodness sake, I’m sorry for not letting my sister and sister-in-law sneak around abandoned buildings, on the search for a murderer, might I add, by themselves.”

Izzy playfully nudges Alec, trying to break his grumpy mood. He just glares at her in response, as he is wont to do.

“You’re just upset that you’re missing movie night,” Izzy teases. 

Yes, Izzy is aware this is no laughing matter: yes, Izzy is aware that Alec is being perfectly reasonable and yes, she is aware that Maia is incredibly beautiful with vengeful fire burning in her eyes (that acknowledgement may have been incredibly self-indulgent and irrelevant, but Izzy digresses).

But humour is a good mask for the pain.

A handful of untrained, unarmed and unprotected young adults searching for a murderer. Izzy knows it’s far from a good idea, but the police have been downright useless, and, well.

She swallows as Bat’s gaunt face comes forth in her mind, the way he had just looked _wrong,_ all lifeless and eyes long glazed over. 

Tonight, justice will be served. She’s sure of it, even if she has to take fate by the reins.

Maia - her wife, her smart and loyal wife - is just as determined, just as ruthless. Bat had been their _friend_.

Alec is. Well. An older brother who doesn’t fancy Izzy putting herself needlessly in danger, but she’ll make her own decisions, thank you very much.

Even if Alec’s concerns are incredibly valid.

“No,” Alec says, pulling down his beanie further. It’s bright purple and gold: far from his usual style, but Magnus, his husband, bought it, so of course he cherishes it. “No, Izzy, I’m annoyed because you two are completely disregarding your safety - and,” he says, lifting a gloved finger, “not for the first time, either, you are searching for a murderer, which I might add is completely irresponsible.”

It’s not like Alec is wrong. After Izzy had gotten shot in the foot the last time they had done this - which had stung like a bitch, but also hadn’t deterred her from throwing herself at the escaping culprit - he’d bought several bullet-proof vests and, when they had shown up two hours ago to his loft, he’d thrown the vests at them, weariness heavy in his eyes.

The police aren’t great at their job: Izzy has learnt that, again and again, because of this sort of bad string of luck that has perpetually hovered them all over the last few years, with there having been half or so a dozen murders that Izzy has stuck her nose into and cracked.

Maia and Izzy are both scientists, Izzy within organic chemistry and Maia working in marine biology.

Alec is a high school history teacher, and Magnus is a social worker.

None of them are even remotely qualified for this sort of sleuthing.

“We do have vests for that, Alec,” Izzy points out, brightly, “and we didn’t even drag Magnus along tonight.”

The only reason why Magnus didn’t tag along tonight was because he had recently sprained his ankle, and - albeit with reluctance - he’d agreed that crutches weren’t exactly quiet and he wasn’t particularly good at using them. Alec had also promised to watch Magnus’ choice of film when they came back, which was really what had convinced Magnus to stay home.

_If they come back._

Izzy pushes her lingering doubts, her fear, to the back of her mind.

Alec sighs, pinching his nose. “As much as I love Magnus, Izzy, he’s not the only person I care about.” The sarcasm practically drips to the icy floor.

Maia, who has been surveying the nearby area and tuning out their squabble, stiffens at a nearby rustle.

“Be quiet,” Alec whispers.

Maia pulls out her spray bottle, spins it around, smiles in that cocky way of hers that Izzy adores. “Will do.”

The night now grows silent except for the rustling in the bushes.

Izzy doesn’t have any sort of weapon on her, just a pack of mints which Alec curls his lip at due to their curt, spearmint smell, so if the murderer really hates spearmint, she just might have a shot.

She’s not a cop, not even close.

But she thinks that she knows who did it, the cops are doing shit, so she has taken matters into her own hands.

No matter how irresponsible of her that might be.

.

The murderer fits what Izzy had seen in the security tapes: tall, hulking, with a shaved head and glittering, cold brown eyes.

He’s got a gun strapped to his leg, a gun that he whips out with frightening familiarity.

Izzy swallows. This isn’t America; she’s not quite sure how he got it, or why she is surprised that he does, a cold-blooded murderer.

“You’re not the police,” the man says, with an unsettling smirk. “Some vigilantes who think they can take on the big bad guy. Well,” he says, cocking the gun, “you thought wrong.”

Alec, who has snuck around the back, tries to take out the man from behind, but he is pushed roughly to the side.

It's sickening.

“I’ve only got one bullet left,” he says, casually aiming the gun towards Izzy and Maia.

Izzy swallows, shares a quick look with Maia.

They’re taking this bastard down.

.

This time, Izzy gets shot in the chest.

Thanks to the vest, nothing serious results from it, but Alec has still got his head in his hands and Maia is not leaving Izzy’s side, holding her hand tightly, their wedding rings glinting in the yellow lamplight from the neighbouring street.

They’d caught the killer, a bloke named Russell who’d had some sort of odd one-sided rivalry with Bat, who hadn’t even known he’d existed, and there’s a small sense of satisfaction that justice has been wrought tonight.

“I told you,” Alec mutters, sitting down, as he’s a little winded from when Russell threw him to the side. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

Alec had called Magnus as soon as Russell had been arrested, with some sort of frantic desperation. Magnus had called Raphael, as he was temporarily banned from driving, and now there was an old Camaro rolling up.

“Honestly,” Raphael says as he steps into the scene, squinting a little at the flashing lights from the nearby police car. “How did you manage this, Lightwood?”

Alec shakes his head in despair. “I don’t know,” he says, speech starting to slur, and Izzy feels terrible for dragging him into this. He’s clearly exhausted: after a full day at work, he hadn’t deserved being assaulted by a murderer. “I just want to go home.”

Raphael helps Alec into his car at the curbside, where Magnus is waiting in the backseat, twisting his fingers together aimlessly, anxiously.

As soon as Alec slides into the car, he is swept up in a hug from Magnus, who kisses his head. They both look up, Alec’s eyes softening, to wave goodbye to Izzy and Maia, and then they are gone. 

And then it’s just Maia and Izzy.

“Izzy,” Maia says. Her spray bottle is now empty, but thankfully she wasn’t injured in the scuffle. “We have to stop doing this.”

She can see the logic, the clarity in Maia’s words. But the failure of the police, time and time again - she cannot help herself from stepping in to halt the bloodied chain of tragedy.

“But we’ve helped bring so many people down.”

Izzy knows that she’s on the losing side here, after having been seriously injured twice now - but she’s got this sort of self-sacrificial streak, this inability to feel her own pain when other people’s suffering, jagged and messy and violent, bleeds into her soul.

“No,” Maia repeats, firmly. Her eyes soften. “Iz, I know that people dying sucks, but if we go on with this, we can’t always be so lucky."

Maia takes a deep breath, a steadying breath, and Izzy just wants to reach out and hold her, to tell her that everything will be alright, that the world will stop being a raging bonfire. But she can’t.

“I know,” Izzy says, softly, “but we’re taking precautions, we’re not being utterly reckless. And we solved Bat’s murder, when the police gave up.”

“We did,” Maia says, nodding ever so slightly, “Bat’s death hurt, and I’m glad that the bastard who did it was caught. But it’s not our responsibility, nor should it be.”

A tear falls down Maia’s face, and Izzy wants to kiss all of her pain away.

But still, because Izzy cannot ignore the injustices of the world even when she wants to - when she just wants to cuddle with her wife and attend science conventions with her and have silly discussions about which discipline is better - she persists. “But if not us, who?”

Maia, after a brief glance, lowers her voice. “I know the police are often shit. Izzy, feel free to still investigate, dig around, whatever. But we can’t keep on putting ourselves into needless danger.” 

Izzy hasn’t moved since the medic sat her down, with stern orders for bed rest for the next week. Even with a bulletproof vest, being shot was no joke, and even now she struggles for breath.

Maia's voice cracks, breaks into a thousand pieces. “I can’t lose you, too. So please, let’s put ourselves first, alright?”

Izzy’s resolve weakens, dissolves into nothingness. “Alright,” she says, softly.

The world is on fire, but they can work at dousing the fire in their little part of the world instead of trying to tackle everything and burn themselves in the process.

If it had Maia who had been shot - well. Best not to go there, to a situation that would leave Izzy in hysterics.

“We’ll wait until the medic gives us permission to leave,” Maia continues, with a smile, “and then we’ll go home and watch _Birds of Prey_.”

Cuddles and popcorn, and no more combat aside from the fictional variety. It sounds like a lovely ending to what had been a trying night.

“Alright,” she mutters, her head drooping onto Maia’s shoulder.

Maia laughs, breaking the frigid air of the night, though it is weak. “We can be badass scientists without putting our lives in danger. We make an excellent investigative team.”

They had been spending their nights examining clues as if through a microscope, and they had succeeded.

“Yeah, we do.” Izzy yawns, raising a hand to rub her eyes, but then she winces.

Maia sighs, gently pulls her arm back down. “We didn’t even get to discuss our days before we cracked the case. I’ll start.”

It’s in the forthright, no-nonsense way that Izzy loves, before she devolves into a stream of passionate thought.

This world is an imperfect, often terrible place. Bat’s death will be a tragedy that will forevermore haunt her.

But at least she is not alone.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr ](https://mirrorofliterature.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/mirroroflit)
> 
> all comments and kudos are always appreciated xx


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